Once, Long Ago
by Kasigi Omi
Summary: Aragorn goes on a quest to find Arwen, and meets Legolas on the way. Not slash. Just two good friends, on the same road to Rivendell. It's an AU.
1. The Lonely Road

Notes: Okay, I've read a lot of LOTR fanfiction, and I've found that the main body of it is made up of Mary Sue's (which I hate!), and slash (which I love!). This is not either. It is just a slightly AU (meaning, set in the same world, but under different circumstances) story, mainly involving my favorite (and many other peoples favorite) characters having a close friendship where they can lean on each other/hug/kiss (chastely) without it being romantic. This is OOC, I'm sure, but I've not even finished the first book yet, and have seen the movie only twice. Bear with me. This is done for entertainment. The charas are Tolkien's, and I never thought I would be writing one of these fics! Please, R&R. I'm not really sure where I want this to go yet, or how long…so..the more feedback, the more likely it will grow long and prosper. ^-^  
  
  
  
  
  
Once, Long Ago  
  
  
  
How long he had been trudging in a generally northern direction he couldn't tell. Truth be told, he really knew very little anymore. Vaguely he remembered his name, his home, and the reason for this quest, but they all seemed distant memories, as if they were taken from passages in a book he had once enjoyed. All he knew for sure was that he was tired, hungry, and lonely.  
  
Wearily he stepped off the road when he heard a wagon approaching behind him. This would be the eighth one that day. Having nothing better to do, he counted them, and as he walked he would think of where they may be going and what they may be carrying. In his more odd moments, he would fantasize about one of the wagons stopping beside him, the beautiful driver leaning towards him and offering him a ride, only to recognize him and throw their arms about him, declaring their undying love.  
  
"If that were to happen, the wagon would be stopping right about…now," he thought to himself. One could imagine how surprised he was when the wagon actually did stop when he predicted.  
  
"Would you like a ride?" a cheerful, musical voice asked.  
  
Hardly daring to hope, he raised his eyes. The driver was indeed an Elf, but not the one he was looking for. This was a young-looking male elf with blond hair and green eyes. He smiled down at him. "If you're just going to continue down this road, you might as well join me. No sense in you walking this whole way when I can easily carry you! Besides, I'm lonely and would enjoy the company."  
  
The man looked around, surveying the landscape. The road stretched on over the flat land, off into the far distance. He had planned to continue along it, and he was lonely as well. Perhaps having someone to talk to would ease his troubled mind.  
  
"Thank you," he rasped out in a voice rough from disuse. With a grace more often found in Elves than Men, he hopped onto the wagon.  
  
"No problem," the Elf replied, shrugging. "Like I said, I was lonely. Being the youngest son, I get stuck with all the fun jobs my elder siblings don't want. Take this for example. I have to take the Elven goods from Mirkwood to a few assorted settlements, and end up in Rivendell, where I will be loaded up with new goods and sent back the way I came."  
  
"Rivendell? You're going to Rivendell?" the Man asked, hardly daring to trust his luck. It had never been this good to him before.  
  
"Oh yeah. I get there roughly four times a year. It's nice there, so I don't really mind. It's just the boredom wears on me. My name is Legolas, by the way," he added, nodding politely at the man.  
  
"I'm called Strider, but my name is Aragorn," the Man replied.  
  
"Nice to meet you. So, how far do you plan to accompany me?"  
  
"To Rivendell, if I may."  
  
"Certainly. But, why do you seek Rivendell?"  
  
"I need to find someone. Someone I met once, a long time ago." 


	2. Private Memories

Legolas nodded sagely. "So you fell in love?" he guessed.  
  
Aragorn was surprised at his perception, but couldn't deny the fact. "Yes. With an Elven maiden."  
  
"Ah. Would you feel comfortable telling me about it?"  
  
"Not really," Aragorn confessed. He had never told the story to anyone, even his closest friends. Though he liked the Elf already, he wasn't ready to tell him that particular story. It was too personal. "Perhaps at another time."  
  
"Very well." They rode on in silence for several minutes, before Legolas spoke up again. "Had you met many Elves before you saw her? If you don't mind me asking."  
  
"That I will tell you," Aragorn conceded. "She was the first Elf I had ever seen, and to an inexperienced seventeen year old boy, she looked like she was everything I could ever want."  
  
"Yes. Humans do tend to get infatuated with Elves easily, if they haven't seen many of them. Mind you, I am not slighting your feelings. The glow in your eyes as you speak of her tells of deep and true feelings. However, many Men merely see Elves as beautiful and exotic creatures to be coveted." He chuckled slightly. "Actually, the towns I visit don't have many Elves come through them, so many of the women, and some of the men, all come out to my cart and flirt with me."  
  
"Do you flirt back?"  
  
Legolas cast him a wry grin. "Sometimes. But it's odd. You see, I can still remember flirting with some of their ancestors!"  
  
"How old are you?" Aragorn asked, squinting at him in the growing darkness. It was getting late.  
  
"How old do you think I am?"  
  
"I have no idea, and I couldn't guess. I haven't met many Elves, but I have read about them, and I know that their outward appearance in no way reflects their true age."  
  
"Smart man. Actually, I am 2,931 years old."  
  
"You look good for your age."  
  
"Well, I do try oh so hard to maintain my beauty," Legolas said loftily, flipping his hair. He couldn't, however, keep a straight face about it and burst into laughter.  
  
Aragorn laughed with him. He would get to like this Elf. 


	3. Repayment

They conversed about nothing in particular for another hour, before Legolas nodded to himself and guided the horse off the road. Just out of sight of the road, he stopped the horse and clambered into the back of the wagon, grabbing several bags, before he jumped out the back. He unhitched the horse and let it wander off to graze, trusting it in a completely Elven way, to return when he called.  
  
Aragorn helped him start a fire, and Legolas unrolled his bedroll. "Here. You can take the blankets and use them for a bed. I don't need them. Elves don't really feel the cold. I only carry them as an added nicety."  
  
"Thank you," Aragorn conceded, arranging them on the ground beside the fire, before settling himself onto them. Wordlessly he accepted a plate of food from Legolas.  
  
"Elven travelling rations," Legolas shrugged. "Not the most delightful food in the world, but probably better than what you have been eating."  
  
Aragorn took a bite and smiled. "Much better indeed," he agreed, before devouring the rest. He hadn't eaten anything more exiting than berries for days.  
  
Legolas watched him with a small smile for a moment, before he pulled a bag onto his lap and opened it, extracting a small knife with a white handle, and a chunk of smooth red wood. Humming contentedly, he began whittling.  
  
When he caught Aragorn watching him, he shrugged. "I get lonely and bored all by myself, so when I settle in for the night, I make some carvings and jewelry of my own to sell in the markets. My admirers have a tendency to buy the things I make, just because I made them. I get to keep all the money from those sales."  
  
"Well then, in return for your kindness, I can drive the wagon some, so you may have the time to make more jewelry to sell."  
  
"Ah hah! More money for me to spend on arrows, or a new bow! I agree to the terms of your repayment!" Legolas leaned forward, extending his hand to Aragorn, who grasped it and shook it.  
  
"You are an archer?" Aragorn inquired.  
  
"The best in Mirkwood, if I do say so myself," Legolas replied, tossing the small pile of wood chips into the fire. The smell of the freshly cut wood burning was pleasant to Aragorn's senses. He inhaled deeply, letting memories the scent brought him, of dancing in the woods with an Elven maiden, flow over him.  
  
They sat in a comfortable silence for a long while, before Legolas happened to glance at Aragorn, who was having difficulty keeping his eyes open. "You may sleep, you know. I shall soon retire myself. You have traveled much. Get some rest."  
  
"Thank you, my friend," Aragorn murmured, settling down into the blankets. For the first time in many months, the next morning held promise for him. Maybe he would be able to accomplish his seemingly impossible quest after all. 


	4. Carvings

Reluctantly, Aragorn pulled himself out of dreams of dark hair and musical voices, and returned to the waking world. Slowly his eyes slid open to reveal a glorious sunrise. Reds, pinks and oranges painted the sky. Content for the moment, he decided to just lay back and watch the glories of nature.  
  
Nearby he could hear the sounds of carving. He cast his eyes to the right, where he saw Legolas already awake and whittling. A horse was most definitely forming from the wood, the rich brown of the wood perfectly forming the lean flanks. It was beautiful.  
  
"I don't think your looks are the only reason you sell your work," he remarked dryly.  
  
Legolas glanced at him and smiled. "Perhaps not, but I like to think it is."  
  
"Ah, a narcissist then?"  
  
"It's possible."  
  
"Hm." Aragorn turned his attention back to the sunrise. He stretched his arms out, running his fingers through the dew damp grass. "This is a nice morning."  
  
"Indeed," was his companions reply.  
  
Slowly, as the sun climbed, the birds began waking in their trees and singing songs to greet the morning. Aragorn hadn't felt so peaceful in a very long time.  
  
He was aware that Legolas had finished carving for the morning and was packing up, but he wasn't concerned with that at the moment. He just wanted this lovely moment to last as long as possible, and he silently thanked Legolas for realizing it, and leaving him be. Besides, he could always make it up to him somehow.  
  
The low whistle Legolas used to call the horse back only added to the peace of the scene. Munching grass as it came, the horse approached and allowed Legolas to harness it back to the wagon.  
  
Finally the sun had risen far enough that the colors had faded, and Aragorn rolled over and stood up. Deftly rolling up his makeshift bed, he began helping Legolas secure the camping gear in the wagon, before both climbed up to the seat and they were off again, Aragorn holding the reigns while Legolas continued whittling.  
  
"Sleep well?" Legolas finally asked, watching a hawk glide over their heads before it flew off towards the trees. A gentle smile spread over his face for a moment, before he continued carving. It was time now to work on the hardest part.  
  
"Is that a unicorn?" Aragorn asked, realizing for the first time that Legolas was carving a horn.  
  
"Aye. That it is. Or will be."  
  
"She- she loved unicorns."  
  
"I'm sure she did. They are, to Elves, the most pure example of peace and tranquility in a forest. If you have a forest without unicorns, the forest is dead."  
  
"Does Mirkwood have unicorns?"  
  
"Yes, a few. I have never seen one, myself. It is a dream of mine, to see a unicorn."  
  
"How do you know they are there, then?"  
  
"I can feel it. Trust me, if you have any earth sense at all, if there are unicorns in an area, you will be able to tell."  
  
"Rather a romantic notion, isn't it."  
  
Legolas chuckled. "Yes. Which is why some of the young male Elves who travel like to tell the Elven women who catch their fancy that there are unicorns in our woods. Then the maidens come to see them, and, well… end up staying."  
  
"I'm sure you've never tried a trick like that."  
  
"Of course not!" Legolas smiled, but his eyes were quickly darting back and forth. Then he laughed. Aragorn joined him.  
  
"Ah! Finished!" Legolas suddenly announced, holding out his handiwork proudly.  
  
Aragorn turned to inspect it. Thankfully the horse had been on the route long enough that he didn't need to concentrate on directing it. "It's beautiful."  
  
"It's yours," Legolas said, thrusting it at Aragorn. "Give it to your Elven maiden when you find her. It's not a real unicorn, but perhaps it will work just as well."  
  
"Thank you. I- thank you." Legolas took the reigns as Aragorn gingerly took the carving into his hands, inspecting it. The creature was perfectly formed for its small size. Intelligent looking eyes watched him as he examined the flowing mane and delicate horn.  
  
"There is the first town!" Legolas cheered, stopping the horse for a moment and pointing. "Now you shall see how all the women desire me!" He turned to Aragorn and winked. "Though I doubt not that they shall find you desirable as well!"  
  
"With a handsome Elf like you around! I doubt they will even notice me!"  
  
"Of course. That is true! How wise of you to realize it!"  
  
With that, Legolas spurred the horse on and they rode into the small, quiet town of Shangle. 


	5. The Market

They pulled right into the middle of the town, where a small marketplace was set up. People watched them come, and some waved at Legolas. A few maidens even blew him kisses, to which he winked flirtatiously, causing the ladies to go into fits of giggles. Aragorn rolled his eyes and pretended to be exasperated. Really though, his eyes were sparkling with a light they hadn't contained in months.  
  
"Here looks like a good place," Legolas announced, springing from his seat to the ground. He darted around to the back of the wagon and opened it. From it he drew a nice table, which he set up. Then he proceeded to pull out bags, the contents of which he laid out artfully on the table.  
  
Aragorn walked around to help him, inspecting the fine Elven work. There were carved gems in the shapes of animals and flowers. There were fine fabrics that were lighter to the touch than silk, but more resilient than leather. Carvings of animals, plants, and various assorted objects were lined up at the back of the table. A crate of Elven wine was set on the ground at the side.  
  
Almost as soon as Legolas had finished setting up, a crowd surrounded them, eyeing the objects and asking Legolas the price. Briefly he turned his eyes on Aragorn. "Could you please take the horse to the inn down the street? It's called The Winged Messenger. My father has an arrangement with the proprietor, so you won't have to worry about paying."  
  
"Certainly," Aragorn agreed.  
  
"My thanks." Legolas flashed him a grin, before turning back to the customers.  
  
Aragorn walked around the wagon to the horse, taking the bridle and beginning to lead it away. He could still hear the conversation from the booth.  
  
"Which of these did you make, Legolas?" A young woman with long brown hair asked, fluttering her eyelashes.  
  
"Ah, my wares are not out yet," he heard Legolas reply. "Shall I show them to you?"  
  
"Oh yes!" The rest of the conversation was lost to him as he walked out of hearing range.  
  
"Flirtatious Elf," he muttered, shaking his head. His mind drifted to another Elf who had once flirted with a young Man, so long ago. A bitter smile crossed his face, but this was different from all the other smiles brought on by painful memories. This one contained hope.  
  
It wasn't long before he arrived at the Inn and approached the stables. A young stable hand jumped to his feet and came to stand in front of him. "Hello!" he said, cheerfully. "What can I do for you?"  
  
"Um, I came to stable this horse for my friend," Aragorn said lamely. It had been a very long time since he had had any normal human interactions. "This horse belongs to Legolas, the Elf from Mirkwood."  
  
"Ah, yes! Now I recognize him! Okay. I'll take care of him for now. Thank you very much!" The boy approached the horse and fondly stroked its muzzle, before taking the reins and leading it away.  
  
Mission accomplished, he returned to Legolas, who was surrounded by adoring women. He looked rather stressed, as he was trying to stave off the women, and sell his peoples goods at the same time.  
  
"Perhaps I can help?" Aragorn offered.  
  
Legolas shot him a smile full of gratitude. "If you could just take the money for the goods, I would appreciate it."  
  
"Not a problem."  
  
"I owe you."  
  
With that, Aragorn turned to the task he would spend the next several hours doing, collecting money and selling the beautiful Elven goods. Legolas also sold the majority of his own work, collecting a tidy profit for himself.  
  
When the sun began to set, Legolas jumped up on the half empty table. This got a few cheers from the women, which provoked Legolas into flipping his hair and striking a few sexy poses, before he got serious. "Okay, everyone! The sun is setting! This booth is closed!"  
  
Sorrowful groans followed this announcement as the crowd began returning home. A few of the more bold women offered to 'entertain' Legolas for the evening, but he politely declined, feigning weariness. Of course, a few of the women also propositioned Aragorn, but he told them he was taken. Disappointed, the women walked away to sleep in their empty beds, or find other men to fill them.  
  
When the last one had left, Legolas turned to Aragorn. "Fun, isn't it?"  
  
Aragorn just laughed and shook his head, before turning around to help Legolas pack everything up for the night. 


	6. Warm Bath, Soft Bed

Once Legolas deemed everything secure, he picked up his bag and walked with Aragorn to The Winged Messenger. They walked up to the front desk and Legolas rang the bell. It wasn't long before a short, thin man approached.  
  
"Yes? How may I hel- Oh! Legolas! How good to see you again!"  
  
"Greetings Paull. Is my room waiting?"  
  
"Indeed, but..." Here the man peered at Aragorn, "What will this young man be doing?"  
  
"Uh, good question. One moment, good sir, and we shall work this out!" Paull nodded and went to busying himself with his accounts. Legolas turned to Aragorn. "Now you have a choice to make. Would you prefer your own room, or would you like to share a room where one of us could sleep on the floor?"  
  
"A room?"  
  
Legolas seemed amused. "Yes, a room. With a bed, and a fireplace and chairs and other nice things such as those."  
  
"A bed. It's been five months since I've slept in a bed."  
  
"I'm sure. But which do you prefer?"  
  
"I don't mind sharing a room, unless perhaps you were provided with the money to afford an extra room."  
  
"No. My father provides me with just enough to afford food, I'm afraid. I pay for the rooms with cases of wine. It's a very good exchange my father has worked out."  
  
"I see. Then one room will be fine."  
  
"Very well." Legolas turned his attention back to the innkeeper. "We shall just share the one room."  
  
"All right. Here's the key." Paull handed the key to Legolas, who thanked him, before lifting his bag and leading Aragorn up a flight of stairs to the waiting room.  
  
Once Legolas threw the door open, Aragorn couldn't help but stare in awe. It wasn't that the room was particularly elegant or lavish, so much as that it was a room with a bed. Indeed, the bed was large and full of the promise of comfort and sweet dreams.  
  
"I insist that you take the bed," Legolas said suddenly. "It has been a long time since you've slept in one."  
  
"I couldn't do that!" Aragorn protested. "I owe you enough already! If it comes to it, I suppose we could just share the bed. That is, if you don't mind."  
  
"No, I don't mind."  
  
"Then it's settled."  
  
"I suppose so. Now why don't you go make use of the bathing faculties. Since you've been traveling so long, your hair must be terribly greasy."  
  
Aragorn raked a hand through it, only now realizing how disgusting it had gotten. "That is probably a good idea."  
  
"Excellent. They have some lovely warm water bathing areas set up in this inn. That's one of the main reasons I like this one in particular. You can even borrow some of my clothes to sleep in."  
  
"Thank you." Aragorn bowed his head, deeply touched by the Elf's kindness.  
  
"Well, let us go."  
  
Padding quietly down the hallway, Aragorn realized how much he had missed the comfort and warmth of nice inns. He had run out of money weeks ago, only managing to find enough to keep himself fed.  
  
"Here we are," Legolas announced, throwing wide the door. Many tubs awaited, full of warm water. Legolas wasted no time in selecting one, discarding his clothing, and slipping in. He sighed contentedly as he leaned back against the back of the tub, closing his eyes.  
  
Aragorn moved more slowly, though his desire to become sanitary was probably greater than his companions. He wanted to prolong the experience. Slowly, he stripped off his dirty and ragged shirt, and then slid out of his pants. Gingerly, he stepped into the tub and sat down. The feeling of warm, clean water on his skin after so long was probably one of the most wonderful things he had ever experienced. Not waiting to adjust to the heat, he ducked his head under, then began scrubbing his skin clean.  
  
His eyes drifted over to his companion, who now sported a head of wet hair and one of the most feline expressions he had ever seen. Honestly, he was getting the impression that the Elf was just an odd species of cat.  
  
"So, have you ever been in love?" he asked nonchalantly, more to make conversation than to find out the answer.  
  
"Aye. I am in love," Legolas replied, his smile taking on more of a predatory edge as he thought of his beloved.  
  
"Oh, are you?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Who is she?"  
  
"Ah, the one I can never have, of course!" Legolas cast an arm across his eyes, sending droplets of water everywhere.  
  
"Without the melodrama, please?"  
  
Legolas laughed heartily. "Truly, my only love is my forest home."  
  
"And you can never have her?"  
  
"No! Indeed I cannot!"  
  
"Why not?"  
  
"Why, the trees belong to everyone!"  
  
"Oh." Aragorn was relatively sure the Elf was kidding with him, but he never knew with Elves. They got rather odd when it came to trees, or so he had heard.  
  
"Now to seriously answer your question, no. I have never been in love with another," Legolas confessed.  
  
"Have you ever, you know, had lovers?" He wasn't sure why he was asking. It was just that even he could see that Legolas was beautiful. If he had never had a lover...  
  
"Yes! Of course I have!" Legolas nodded, while undoing the braids he had in his hair. "Several, both male and female. I've just never loved any of them, you see."  
  
"Ah. Well, I have had lovers as well."  
  
"I'm sure you have." Legolas looked at him keenly then. "Tell me, for I admit that I am quite curious, what is love like?"  
  
"What is it like? Well, I don't know how to describe it. I suppose it's like hearing the first birds of spring after a long winter, or seeing the sun rise after dark days of rain."  
  
"Mmm," Legolas murmured, sinking back again into the water. "Those are the most wonderful feelings I know of."  
  
"Then increase them a hundred fold and you will know what it is like to feel love."  
  
"Ah!"  
  
Aragorn looked at his friend, afraid he had upset him somehow. "Are you alright?"  
  
"Yes. It's just that you have made me want to fall in love!"  
  
"I'm sorry," Aragorn half laughed, half teased, shaking his head.  
  
"Oh, do not apologize. Many have told me that I should fall in love. They say I am missing out, but none have been able to describe the feeling in words I can understand as well as you have. I have had many offers. Perhaps I shall give some of them a chance."  
  
"I recommend it."  
  
"Well in that case, I suppose I shall."  
  
"Yes."  
  
They spent the next several minutes silently washing themselves. Eventually, though, the water began cooling and Legolas stepped out, stretching luxuriously before picking up a towel and drying himself off. Aragorn followed his example.  
  
Then they both dressed in Legolas' clothes, and headed back to their room.  
  
"Which side of the bed do you prefer?" Legolas asked sweetly, gesturing to the pile of pillows and blankets.  
  
"I care not. Take your pick," Aragorn replied, shrugging. Having any part of that bed at all was enough for him!  
  
"Suit yourself." Legolas climbed into the bed, taking the far side that was pressed against the wall. With him was one of the blankets he used on the road. The blanket on the bed he shoved towards Aragorn. "Take this one."  
  
"Thank you." If he had thought the warm bath was nice, settling into a soft bed was absolute bliss. He spent a long time just arranging the blanket over him and the pillow under his head.  
  
Before he dropped off to sleep, he glanced at Legolas, who was laying on his back and staring at the ceiling. "Good night," he said. There was no reply. Aragorn nudged him slightly and still got no response. That was when he noticed the slow but steady rise and fall of the Elf's chest, almost like one sleeping. That was when he realized that his friend was asleep.  
  
"That is rather disconcerting," he thought to himself. A slow grin crept onto his face though. "However, if I am to marry an Elven maiden, I suppose I should get used to sleeping next to people who keep their eyes open even as they slumber." With that happy thought, he too drifted off to sleep. 


	7. Early Morning

Bird song outside the window roused Aragorn the next morning. He couldn't remember ever having felt so refreshed after a night of sleep as he was that morning. Of course, he had never gone such a long period of time without sleeping in a comfortable bed before, so that may have affected his judgement.  
  
"I trust you slept well?" a cheerful voice asked.  
  
Aragorn rolled over in the bed and faced Legolas, who was rummaging through his bag. "Yes. What are you doing?"  
  
"Looking for some clothes for you to wear."  
  
"Ah. Why?"  
  
"You just took a bath last night. It would be foolish to get right back into your dirty clothing again. Besides, I have several spare outfits with me. You can borrow some of my clothing. After all, I can't always remain upwind of you, can I?"  
  
A pillow hit Legolas in the side of the head.  
  
Not too much later, the two were dressed and ready to leave, Aragorn clad in some of Legolas' spare clothing. He was taller than the Elf, but only slightly. However, most of Legolas' height was his legs, and so the pants fit almost perfectly, if a little snugly around the waist. Aragorn was definitely broader than the Elf. The shirt, however, was just a little tight around the shoulders and chest, and had an annoying tendency to creep up and reveal a thin sliver of Aragorn's stomach and he found himself tugging it down on a fairly regular basis. This greatly amused Legolas, and entertained the women that they happened to pass.  
  
Legolas took the time to bring a crate of Elven wine to the innkeeper in exchange for their lodging, and then they were off on the road again, women waving to them from windows as they passed. Legolas, of course, waved back and winked. Aragorn just held his shirt down. 


	8. Sex Talks?

Once they had been on the road for a while, Aragorn cried out loud with irritation, gave the shirt one last tug, and then threw his hands up into the air. "And what is wrong now?" Legolas asked, casting him a very amused glance.  
  
"This shirt! It is too short!"  
  
"Well, at least it is clean."  
  
"I don't care!"  
  
"I do!"  
  
"Okay, fine. Where could I get some new clothes of my own then?" Aragorn asked, poking Legolas in the arm.  
  
"At the next town, I suppose."  
  
"Very useful. With what money?"  
  
Legolas chuckled suddenly as an idea struck him. "In the next town there are a few houses of, well, ill-repute. Perhaps you could work there for money. All you would have to do is remove the clothing that you dislike anyway."  
  
Aragorn bopped Legolas on his head, then crossed his arms over his chest. "No."  
  
"Why not? I think you would make very good money at it. You are quite handsome you know."  
  
"Oh really. You think so?"  
  
"From a purely aesthetic point of view."  
  
"Right. Of course. I've heard about you Elves. I've heard you tend to be a bit… well, adventurous."  
  
Legolas laughed out loud, tossing his head back, causing his hair to fly about his shoulders, glinting in the sun. "You have, have you? Well!"  
  
Now Aragorn was worried. "Is it true?"  
  
Abruptly the Elf calmed. "On some level, yes. However, it is not so much because we desire a body like our own. It is more because we desire the soul housed in the body. While it is true that some Elves tend to prefer one gender or the other, that is merely because they tend to identify with that type of soul, rather than finding the body attractive. Do you understand?"  
  
"I think so," Aragorn nodded, hesitantly.  
  
Legolas apparently didn't think he understood quite well enough and labored to clarify. "Elves live a long time, and meet many individuals. In a life's journey, one will find people they instantly feel an attraction to on the mental level. Perhaps you are both riding and something about the way they carry themselves draws you in, or maybe you are in an archery contest and another competitor wins your respect. Often enough, with Elves, this will lead to a sexual encounter where the two souls try to connect on a deeper level and hopefully enrich themselves by the contact."  
  
"I suppose that makes Man rather shallow. We'll take someone to bed because we find them attractive physically, and for no reason other."  
  
"Yes, well, I always did say Man was the inferior race."  
  
"Stop it, you," Aragorn snapped with false irritation. Then a sly look crossed his face. "How many Elves have you bedded?"  
  
He hadn't yet managed to shock the Elf, but apparently this caught him off guard. Legolas released one hand from the reigns and brought it up to his mouth, where he proceeded to pretend to cough into it. "Why?" he squeaked.  
  
"Just curious."  
  
"Hmm." Legolas seemed truly lost in thought. "Seven," he said finally.  
  
"Seven in 2,931 years?"  
  
"Some of us bond for less reason than others. I happen to be a little less inclined towards falling into bed with someone."  
  
"Okay. Male or female?"  
  
"Both. More male, merely because I respect traits that are more commonly found in male Elves than females Elves. Archery, for instance."  
  
"Any repeat visits?"  
  
"Why do you care so much?"  
  
"I don't. It's just something to talk about."  
  
"Yes. Two I took to bed more than once. One I bed every time I come across him. Happy now?"  
  
"I guess." This was followed by a pause, and then Aragorn couldn't help himself. "Would you bed me?"  
  
Legolas didn't reply. He merely steered the horse off the road, stopped the cart on the grass and jumped out, walking briskly away towards a small nearby grove.  
  
Worried he may have inadvertently offended his friend, Aragorn leapt down and jogged after him. He caught at his arm, pulling Legolas around to face him. "Did I say something wrong?"  
  
Legolas' cheery smile instantly reassured him. "No. There is just a stream over here in these woods. Bring your clothes so you can wash them. That will put off having to get you new ones for a little longer."  
  
"I'll go get them," Aragorn nodded, turning on his heel to sprint back to the cart.  
  
"Oh, and Aragorn?" Legolas called after him.  
  
"Yes?" Aragorn called back, turning to face him while still running.  
  
"If your heart wasn't already taken, I would bed you so fast your head would spin!" With a last cheeky wave, Legolas darted into the trees. Aragorn tripped over his own feet and fell face first onto the grass.  
  
Slowly he sat up and brushed the dirt off his shirt. "Well, that was unexpected." With that, he got up to get his clothes. 


	9. Streams and Stains

Minutes later he reached the stream, the pack containing all of his clothing hanging from his arm. Legolas was sitting on a large rock in the middle of the stream, his thin shoes beside him as he dangled his bare feet in the water. His eyes were closed and his face was turned upwards towards the sun that could just be seen peeping through the tree boughs. The sight of the Elf sitting there, at total peace with the world, was an exceptionally beautiful one, and it was an image Aragorn carried with him till the end of his days, drawing hope and a feeling of serenity from it.  
  
The Elf paid him no mind as he set his pack down and began pulling his filthy clothes out of it. Every now and then he glanced up at Legolas, but there was no response. With a shrug, he began washing his clothing in the clean, cool water.  
  
Finally he couldn't take the silence any longer. Though he would look back on the silence and peace and feel comforted in the future, he was still a young man at that time and grew impatient with silence, especially when he was doing a menial task that left his mind free to wander.  
  
"Would you really bed me?" he asked.  
  
The green eyes remained closed, but Legolas did reply, "No."  
  
"Because I'm in love with another?"  
  
"Because you're not my type."  
  
"Oh? Why not? What is your type?"  
  
"Immortal."  
  
"Oh," Aragorn replied lamely, turning his attention back to his clothing. Being young, and of a line that lived for an extremely long time, Aragorn never gave much thought to his mortality, or to the immortality of the woman he loved. That may well prove to be a problem.  
  
Yet how could he not pursue her? She was easily the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, with dark hair and glowing eyes. And her voice…Oh, how he had loved her singing! That long ago afternoon he had sat for hours as she sang to him in the peace of the glade outside his home city. Perhaps he seemed shallow, to only be able to describe her as beautiful, but deep down he knew there was more to this love than physical attraction.  
  
"I know what you're thinking about," a lazy voice interrupted his thoughts. "I can tell by the little crease in your forehead."  
  
"Then what am I thinking?"  
  
"Worry not, my friend. I have seen enough love in my life to know when I see one half of a bonded couple."  
  
"Bonded couple?" Aragorn inquired, pulling his shirt out of the stream and laying it on a convenient boulder with his other clothes.  
  
"Soul mates."  
  
"Elves have those?"  
  
Legolas looked offended. "Of course! For every soul in existence, there is one perfect match out there somewhere. Also, there are many souls that have much in common with the soul mate, and so serve as a temporary bedmate."  
  
"Can an Elf and a Man be soul mates?"  
  
Sadness crept into the green eyes. "Indeed they can, and it was through a relationship of that sort that the most beautiful of all Elven women passed out of the world."  
  
"Did you know her?"  
  
Legolas laughed. "Certainly not! That was all long before I was born. Why, that all took place before even Lord Elrond was born! I just know of it from the songs, and I share in the mourning of all of my people."  
  
"You think she and I are soul mates?"  
  
The Elf sprang from his perch, shoes in hand, and waded through the shallow stream until he reached the bank, and settled onto the grass next to Aragorn. "Trust me on this one."  
  
Liking the idea very much, Aragorn smiled at him. "I think I will. Do you think she knows?"  
  
"I'm sure she does. We Elves are much more perceptive about these things than you foolish Men."  
  
"You're racist!" Aragorn exclaimed. Legolas just shrugged and smiled arrogantly at him. In retaliation, Aragorn balled up the shirt he had been washing, the last one he had to do, and hit Legolas with it across the chest.  
  
"Hey!" Legolas squawked indignantly, and before Aragorn could react, he shoved him into the stream.  
  
Not only was the shirt he was wearing too short, now it was wet as well. 


	10. Back on the Road

Note: Sincere apologies for my tardiness. I have been working, going to school, moving out of my house, and trying to spend time with friends as well. It makes it hard to write as often as I would like. I shall try to update once a week, but I can't promise anything. Please continue to read and offer your comments. Thank you for your continued support.  
  
  
  
  
  
Five minutes later, Aragorn had managed to climb out of the water and get Legolas to stop laughing at him. Now they were sprawled in the grass, staring at the sky through the tree branches. Aragorn had peeled off the damp shirt, and now the grass was making his bare back itch, but he felt too lazy to do anything about it.  
  
"Aren't you on a schedule to get to the next town?" he asked, rolling his head to the side to look at Legolas, who looked slightly odd with tiny bits of leaves and grass stuck in his usually neat and tidy hair.  
  
"Well, the townspeople are used to this. I don't exactly follow any strict schedule. They know a day when I should be arriving, but they all know that I can show up as much as three days early, or three days late. We Elves get distracted easily when we have the leisure."  
  
"Ah. That's good. Hate to think I was holding you up."  
  
"No worries. Really, I would have thought you would have been the one in a rush."  
  
"Why?"  
  
Legolas chuckled. "You are the one on the way to see your fair Elven maiden, aren't you?" He gracefully sat up and watched as Aragorn hurriedly began grabbing his damp clothing and shoving it into his bag. "What are you doing?"  
  
"Come on! We have to get going!" Aragorn urged, before sprinting for the cart.  
  
Legolas sighed and climbed to his feet. He bent to pick up his discarded shirt and then followed at a more dignified pace. While he seemed perfectly calm, had one looked at his eyes, they would have seen them twinkling with amusement. 


	11. Travel Finery

Note: Sorry for the very long delay! I was.out of sorts for a while, I suppose you could say. But I'm back, with three new chapters, and more ideas for the next few. Also, someone left a review saying that Leggo has blue eyes. I've read the books, and no where does it mention eye, or even hair color. Unless I am sorely mistaken that is. If I'm wrong, feel free to quote the exact paragraph that says he has blue eyes, and I will go back and change it, and personally credit you with being a genius. If you can't find where it says that, well, shut up. I like green eyes. That is all, except that the characters don't belong to me, but I think you all knew that.  
  
  
  
It was late the next morning that the cart rolled into the next town. When they had first returned to the cart after their adventure at the stream, Aragorn had pushed the horse to move more quickly than its usual sedate pace, and so they had made good time, arriving two days earlier than expected. During the ride, Legolas had calmly worked to restock his collection of saleable goods. He was trying to earn enough for a new bow, after all.  
  
Much like in the last town, people crowded around them as they set up the table and placed the goods upon it. Legolas noted with some amusement that more women were making passes at Aragorn now that he was properly cleaned. The young human seemed not to notice.  
  
As this town was smaller, the profits weren't as high as last time, but that had been expected. Once again they traded wine for a room, made use of the bathing facilities, and settled into a shared bed.  
  
They stared at the ceiling for a while, when Legolas broke the silence. "Were those clothes that you washed at the stream the only ones you have?" he asked.  
  
Aragorn pulled the blankets more snugly about him and replied, "Yes. Why?"  
  
A soft snort came from the direction of his friend. "Honestly. I would have expected a wandering prince to have more elaborate clothing than that!"  
  
"Wa- How? How did you know who I was?"  
  
The Elf chuckled and propped himself up with an arm so he could see the startled look on his friends face. "Not all that many men are named Aragorn, you know. I may be an Elf, but I am also a prince, and as such, I have a thorough knowledge of the royal families of other kingdoms, especially of large and important ones, like Gondor."  
  
"Why didn't you say anything before?"  
  
"It didn't seem important."  
  
"Why does it now?"  
  
"Well, you're going to Rivendell to impress an Elven maiden. I had just assumed that you would have some nice clothing to wear once you got there. When I saw all of the clothing you washed in that stream, I realized I may have been wrong."  
  
For the first time since he had packed and snuck out of his window, Aragorn realized his folly. "Oh no! How am I supposed to impress her, and her father, in these clothes?"  
  
Dimly he could see Legolas' smile. "Don't worry. We're ahead of schedule and there are some excellent tailors in this town, despite its small size. We'll stay here tomorrow and get you some more appropriate clothes."  
  
"I don't have any money."  
  
"I know, but I do. More money than I usually earn on these trips, thanks to you. I can afford to get you a nice outfit or two. Actually, it would be my pleasure."  
  
Knowing better than to look a gift horse in the mouth, Aragorn merely murmured, "Thank you."  
  
Visions of striding into Rivendell in regal finery and sweeping his impressed Love off of her feet danced across his mind as he fell asleep. 


	12. The Bread of Elven Kindness

The next morning, Aragorn awoke to the sound of a rooster outside the window. He muttered a few choice words under his breath and rolled over, only to see an unexpected sight. Legolas was still asleep. For once he had awoken before the Elf.  
  
At least he thought the Elf was asleep. He waved a hand in front of his friends open eyes a few times to be sure. There was no reaction. Definitely still asleep.  
  
With a shrug, he rolled out of bed and pulled on some of his now clean clothing, thanking the gods that he didn't need to wear Legolas' clothing again. That had been a nightmare. Then he scribbled a note on a piece of parchment he found, and left to take a nice walk.  
  
The air was still cool with the promise of morning as he stepped outside. Birds were just waking and beginning their daily singing. The earth was damp with dew. While he had often slept in late at home, early morning, when he saw it, was one of his favorite times. It was always so calm and peaceful. He suspected that even soldiers in the middle of a war could find some sense of goodness in the morning. He also hoped he would never be able to test that theory himself.  
  
As he strolled, some of the villagers called greetings to him, recognizing him as the young man who had come with the Elf. In a village as small as this one, any outsider was instantly recognizable. The familiarity the people evinced with each other made him feel a bit home sick. For a brief moment, he almost regretted sneaking out, leaving only a note to hint as to his whereabouts. Then he realized that his father would never have let him leave, and that regret melted away almost instantly. He loved his father dearly, but he had always been a bit overprotective.  
  
The smell of baking bread caught his attention for a moment, and he paused outside the bakery. The bakers wife, a short, stout woman with a mop of brown hair and a good natured face came out to him holding a loaf of freshly baked bread. "Here, dear," she said, pressing it into his startled hands. "Take this back to your inn and share it with that lovely Elf."  
  
"I- I don't know what to say. Thank you."  
  
She smiled and he got a glimpse of the beauty she had once possessed in her long lost youth. "Don't worry about it, young man. This town is so small we would all fade to nothing if we didn't get trade from the Elves. And that lovely friend of yours realized it and arranged for this place to be on his route. I figure that we owe him. One loaf of bread is nothing."  
  
"This town wasn't on the original route?"  
  
The woman shook her head. "No. He only happened through here with his cart one day because his normal road was washed out by rain. Having nothing better to do, and a few excess goods, he traded them to us at very fair prices. Our seamstresses took those Elven fabrics and turned them into some beautiful garments, which some of our men then took to the nearest town and sold for a good profit. On his next trip, the Elf made sure to stop by here, only to find us prospering more than we have for a long time. The entire town owes him. We were fading to nothing before he came."  
  
"I.see. He is very nice, isn't he?"  
  
She smiled brightly. "Aye, nice as well as beautiful. When I was young I fancied myself in love with him."  
  
Aragorn smiled wryly. "It seems to me that the young often fancy themselves in love with Elves. It's part of their image. I think they enjoy it."  
  
The woman laughed. "That they do! Well, take care of yourself, young sir." With a fond smile, both for him and for her lost youth, she turned and went back into the bakery.  
  
Aragorn then turned and walked back to the inn, where he found Legolas awake and fletching an arrow. "So you're finally awake," he commented, setting the loaf of bread on the table.  
  
"Indeed," Legolas smiled, then glanced curiously at the bread. "I thought you didn't have any money."  
  
"I don't. The bakers wife gave it to me for free."  
  
"She did? Well. Not unusual in this town, I must admit."  
  
"Why didn't you tell me you were so magnanimous?"  
  
The Elf laughed. "Told you the story, did she?" Aragorn nodded, pulling a knife out of his pack and cutting a hunk of the bread. "Well, I didn't think it all that important, really."  
  
"Maybe not to you, but apparently you made an impression on the people here. You really are just a nice guy, aren't you?"  
  
"I don't know what you're talking about."  
  
"Right.," 


	13. Efficient Tailoring

Between the two of them the bread was quickly devoured, and they set out to get Aragorn some new clothes.  
  
"When I come through here, I sometimes stop by here and have Agatha make me a new tunic or other article of clothing. She's amazingly skilled," Legolas told his friend, holding open the door to a small shop.  
  
The walls were lined with bolts of various fabrics in every color and texture imaginable. An old woman stood from where she had been working on her embroidery and made her way over to them. "Ah, Legolas. A new tunic for you?"  
  
"No, Agatha," he smiled. "We are in need of some nice new clothing for my friend here. You see, he's on his way to impress a lady, and he has nothing suitable to wear."  
  
"Oh, I see!" the woman smiled, appraising Aragorn. "Grays and blacks for this one, I see. Perhaps silks?"  
  
Legolas looked Aragorn up and down. "Indeed. I think a nice silk tunic would look quite dashing on him. Much better than those dirty brown travelling clothes. I agree. Something in black, with just a touch of color here and there."  
  
The old lady was already picking up her tape measure. "Hold still," she ordered, deftly taking Aragorn's measurements. He was too startled to do anything but comply.  
  
"I think I have an idea or two," Agatha finally said.  
  
"I leave it to your capable hands," Legolas said deferentially. "We can haggle over prices when the outfits are finished. We need only two. When can you have them finished?"  
  
"Come back tomorrow around noon," Agatha replied.  
  
"We'll be here. Come, Aragorn." Legolas placed a hand on his stunned friends shoulder and guided him out.  
  
Finally Aragorn spoke. "No royal fitting I've ever been to has been that.efficient."  
  
Legolas just laughed. "Tell me about it! Why do you think I try to get my clothes here?" 


End file.
